


Sunshine of Your Love

by sunlightsmarrow



Category: Hockey - Fandom, Pittsburgh Penguins - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Hockey, M/M, Pittsburgh Penguins, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlightsmarrow/pseuds/sunlightsmarrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some little things related with Beau Bennett/James Neal because of some gifs I saw over on tumblr.  Most of them were Sunshine/Lazy or James/Beau Sshhhhhh, so...shhhh</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From: Bride Wars

James stood in front of the mirror. “No, Beau. Christ, have you never been to a wedding before?”

The blonde warily eyed the tux that James was wearing. He scratched behind his neck in the way that indicated his nervousness. James had insisted that the rookie come along for the tux fitting. For Christ’s sake, James was the best man at some guy’s wedding and for some reason he couldn’t fit himself or bring Flower or somebody along.

“Well, it’s not exactly my area, you know?” He offered that toothy smile and James’s eyes flashed. 

“Can you at least tie a tie?” James shifted his weight impatiently. 

“Can’t you?” He leaned back against the wall of the tux store and gave the slightly taller man a once-over. He crossed his arms and quirked a sassy eyebrow. 

“Fuck you. Just come over here and do it!” James gestured at his chest. “Or I’ll make you.”

Beau smirked but stayed rooted to the spot. He and the brunette stared at each other for a few moments. “Rookie,” said James testily. He shifted his weight again and balled his hands together into fists. Beau looked up at him through his eyelashes and at that point, James was ready to pounce. 

And so he did.

He grabbed Beau by the wrists and pulled him up so that they were chest to chest. Beau tensed and shrunk away. He felt the burn of his wrists as James’s grip tightened on him, but slowly receded to gentleness. 

“You know,” James said, splaying Beau’s hands over the tie that he was now meticulously tying for fear of further harm, “You’re a little shit for buying my hoodie.”

“You think so? I think it looks good on me. Better than it would on you.” Beau straightened the tie the he made in no time flat. He didn’t step away from the older man, though, and he was looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Fine, You’re still a little shit.”

Beau grinned. James reciprocated with his shy smile. “But I’m your little shit.” The California native inched closer, if it were at all possible, and tilted his head up just the tiniest bit to reach James’s lips. Their kiss was soft and sweet and had a promise for later. When he pulled away, James was gasping and his eyes were wide. Beau was smiling faintly. 

“Now you’re just being redundant.” Their roles switched as James’s eyes darkened and he pulled open the curtain, letting the tailor see the effects of Beau’s skills.


	2. What Would've Been Porn

The day after the wedding (in which Beau ensured that James looked his best), the Penguins decimated the Sens and it was time to figure out how the hell to beat Boston. 

After the game, James took his general time taking his gear off, due to his interview with the media after his hatty. He hopped into the showers and bathed thoroughly. He felt the lactic acid evaporate from his exhausted muscles and he sighed heavily.

“Rough game?” The crackly voice shook James from his relaxation period and he started. 

“The fuck, Beau. Don’t you ever knock?”

“It’s kind of a communal shower.” He offered a snarky smirk and made himself at home as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms conversationally. “So…you’re naked.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” He ran his hands over his body. “You came for a show?”

“Pff. Believe me, if I wanted a show, you’d know.” That didn’t stop the blush from rising on the rookie’s cheeks.

“Aren’t you cute.”

“Fuck you. You know it.” 

James turned to face him font on and Beau’s eyes went wide. 

“So this is your idea of a show? Standing there?”

“‘S all about you, isn’t it? Show a little gratitude. Make me come.”

“Fuck no! This isn’t some porno.” Beau made a face. “I’m not your sex toy.”

“With a face like that?”

“You’re a dick!” Beau splay his hands out on the wall of the shower and pressed himself forward for emphasis.

James skirted a glance downward. “I got plenty of it.”

Beau huffed and crossed his arms again. Agonizingly slowly, James finished washing himself up. He shut the shower head off and pressed his forehead against the wall.

“So is it better than Cali?” James’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed his question. 

“What is?” Beau’s crackly voice was gentle.

“The dicks,” he elaborated. He stood up and headed out of the shower. The blonde followed close behind in the trail of water left by that lanky body. 

“As in the people, or the physical thing?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Better. Way better. I mean, I didn’t think it was that easy to figure out,” Beau added resignedly.

“You have the brightest eyes on the team, you little virgin. Too high on life to really get anything down and dirty, so I guess you’d figure that the girls don’t do it for you. So who’s the hottest guy on the team?”

“Tanger, probably. But he’s got a kid. He’d be the best at fucking someone into a wall, probably.”

“He doesn’t finish off properly.” James bit his lip as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders. “Leaves you hanging.” The look in his eyes changed to a wisdom that would totally allude the younger man.

“Didn’t know this was a thing with you.”

James chuckled. He finished buttoning up and pulled on a pair of boxers. They were a little tight (not due to weight), and when he caught Beau staring, he gave him a sly grin. “There are many things that you don’t know, young Bennett. For example, Sutter is 100% your best bet. No question. But I think we both know who you want to do that to you.” 

The young man’s face opened up: his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open into a little ‘o.’

“Well. I’m not wrong.”

“But…”

“No. It’s totally fine. I’ll do it. I mean, I wasn’t kidding when I said you were cute.”

“You. Of all people, you!”

“Wow. You’re really that dense? All of that weed wasn’t good for you. Didn’t your parents tell you not to smoke?”

“How about we just test out how well my lungs work right now?”

“Nah. Be patient, young padawan. This isn’t a porno.” James offered a wolfish grin and grabbed Beau by the neck and crushed their lips together. The blonde opened his mouth hungrily and sucked on James’s tongue. The brunette flicked around in Beau’s mouth playfully, tasting, exploring, teasing. When James broke away, his breath was hot on the slightly shorter man’s neck. It smelled of Gatorade and mint. He took in the scent of the younger man’s skin; sweet from the sun that he lived in all his life and rank with want and desperation.

“Is it really that bad?”

“I’m 21 years old.” Beau pointedly squeezed James through his boxers, indicating his intent.

“Yeah. It’s really that bad. Let me get a few drinks before I do this. Come on, Blessed Mother. Let’s get you laid.”


	3. Maybe Nisky?

James had just finished up in the shower when he heard a knock on the door of his hotel room. He wrapped a towel around his torso and stepped out of the bathroom to open the door for, inevitably, Nisky, who must’ve forgotten his room key. Ever since they had been moved to the ‘Burgh together, they had shared the same room on road trips. 

When James pulled the door open, however, long brown hair did not await him. A toothy grin and fresh rookie eyes met his tired haze. 

 

‘Didn’t expect that one,” James muttered under his breath. He didn’t bother formally inviting Beau in because he knew that the kid would pout or sit on the floor and throw a tantrum if he said no. 

James came back out in boxers. Beau was sitting on Matt’s bed and flipping through channels. 

 

“You played well tonight, Beau.” James sat down on his bed and rubbed his eyes. They both stared at the television for a few moments. Baseball highlights were playing and James subconsciously wondered why ESPN refused to cover hockey.

“You, too,” mumbled the Californian. “I really wish we—”

“Yeah.”

“Things just didn’t—”

“Shut up.” James lay down and propped his hands behind his head. There was rustle as Beau got up from the bed and sat down at the foot of James’s. “If you’re looking for—”

“Christ, no. We just lost and I can barely keep my eyes open, less form a coherent thought.” Beau drew his knees up to his chin and rocked back and forth as he watched someone he truly didn’t care about hammer a home run out of the park. He turned off the TV.

“Americans have such a boring pastime,” he commented. “Woohoo he hit the ball and ran to a bag of whatever the hell and he was too slow and now he’s gonna go sit down again.”

He yawned and fell back onto the soft mattress. His back stretched with it’s comforting embrace and Beau squeaked in pleasure. His elbow was touching James’s midsection and he could feel the head radiating from his body. 

Beau wore blue plaid flannel pants and a navy blue tee shirt. He was cold from the eastern seaboard air, and naturally snuggled up to James. The Canadian reached for a blanket and pulled it up over the both of them. Beau was almost entirely covering him. His soft blonde head rested against James’s shoulder and his long arm was thrown across his torso. His breath tickled across James’s clavicle and subconsciously, James moves his arm and wrapped it around Beau’s back and pulled him closer, almost protectively. 

Beau buried his face into James’s neck and planted a soft, lingering kiss before returning to his place on his chest. His eyes were closed and his breathing began to even out. 

The tingling in James’s spine didn’t stop until he fell into an exhausted sleep with dreams of a blonde-haired rookie skating through his head.


	4. When He Was Broken

On the plane ride back, James sat next to Beau. The plane was totally silent: not even a phone buzzed with a text. Beau was curled into the fetal position and his blanket was wrapped up to his chin. His breathing was slow, but not deep enough to indicate sleep.

James reached over to rub his back. The blanket didn’t quite cover all of him and James could feel the quivering muscles on his friend’s back. His shoulders shook minutely and Beau let out a soft moan and buried his head into the blanket. Beau sniffed, and James knew that it was pretty bad.

|||

When they had gotten home, Beau was not in a state to drive, James claimed. He and his rookie loaded up into James’s car and James drove Beau to his apartment. 

“You have the keys?” James’s voice was gentle and he found his hand rubbing against the tender flesh of the American’s back. The blonde’s hair was all over the place and he had a patch of drool on his cheek. His nose was a little runny and he pulled his blanket closer. His eyes were red and puffy and had lost the vibrant hope that had lifted his teammates to a level of real hope. 

“I feel dead,” he slurred. Beau leaned back against the portico of his apartment building. He head slumped forward in a nearly superfluous manner and James, out of instinct, rested his finger underneath that soft chin and pulled it up so that he could appraise his lover.

“Next year, Beau.”

“No. Not next year. Where am I going to be next year?” The tears were fresh but his eyes were age-old with worry, pain, and disappointment. “I could be in Wilkes-Barre and sitting on my ass while you work up here and have the time of your life and move on to some other rookie. You can tease any other rookie and not care one whit about it. I’m not special to you. I’m not special to anyone, and certainly not this team.” Beau inched down the wall and sat there with his head in his hands and his entire body seizing with sobs. His nose ran afresh and mingled with hot tears that could only come from the soul’s most agonizing heartbreak. 

“That’s what you’re worried about?” James blinked. The thought had never crossed his mind. “That I’d just leave you for some other kid? You think I’m that kind of guy?”

Beau looked at him with expectation. His lower lip trembled and James was stricken. He had never seen the happy young guy in such a state. Now that he thought about it, when James was 21, his emotions were in nearly the same place. 

“Stand up,” he commanded. His voice was firm and sure. Beau stood slowly. His eyes searched in that sea of blue and green for something to cling to. “Now, I’m not just saying this because you need to hear it right now. You do, but that’s not the reason why I’m saying it. I’m being really hopeful right now about your reciprocation, but I think you should know that ever since that day in the locker room and the way you presented yourself, I felt something way more than a heat-of-the-moment drive for you.”

Beau furrowed his brows in confusion. He wiped away his tears and cleaned his nose on his sleeve. He opened his mouth to speak, but James continued.

“You’re not scared. You’re not scared of me or our opponents. You’re not scared of the bruisers and you’re sure as hell not scared of Sidney Crosby, which I have to admit is pretty remarkable. You can stand up for yourself, and you have a talent that shines no matter who you work with, and I think once I came to that conclusion, I fell in love with you.”

Beau was crying again. This time, James was laughing. He grabbed Beau and hugged him tightly. “You’ll be okay. You’ll stay here. I’d never dream of replacing you.” His lips covered the ever-trembling rookie’s. Beau kissed him back with a feverish fervor that shocked the older man. The brunette’s strong, calloused hands gripped the blonde’s hips and pulled them tight and flush against their master’s. James swallowed the younger’s moan, and they pulled away, breathless. Their foreheads met in a flurry of wrinkles.

“You have your keys?” James’s breath was hot on Beau’s nose. The Californian smirked. 

“I always do when you’re around.”

“You little shit.” James pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

“Fuck off.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Beau pulled away and gave James a nearly incredulous glare, which quickly turned into a massive shit-eating grin. He fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out his set of keys. He dangled them in James’s face before turning and unlocking his door. He offered a sultry look to his lover, and led the way into his apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

“God fucking damnit,” cursed Beau Bennett. He grumbled and held his head in his hands. The minutes were winding down of game 6 of the Stanley Cup final and Boston was up 2-1 with less than two minutes left.. “No! Damn it, Chicago, get the puck in the fucking net or I swear to fucking--YEAH!” The blonde jumped up and whooped. He glanced down at the man he was watching the game with. James Neal was grinning ear to ear with excitement. 

“Settle down, there, kiddo. Still got a minute fifteen left.” He wrung his hands together and relaxed back on the over-large couch in Beau’s sea-side home. 

“Dude.” The look in Beau’s eyes changed as he moved closer and straddled his superior. He rolled his hips forward, indicating his intent. Beau’s face was inches away and his eyes were brilliant in the dimly lit room. They fluttered shut and he leaned in. 

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” James jumped up and practically launched Beau into the television. James was laughing hysterically as he pulled Beau up and kissed him passionately. “Fucking right, Dave Bolland! Fucking right!” He took a swig of beer and returned his attention to this lover. Beau was making a slightly pouty face and James could only smirk. 

James’s breath was warm and sweet from alcohol on Beau’s face. Technically, the younger wasn’t supposed to drink, but that didn’t stop him in his own private residence. Their tongues met first as they dove headlong into fits of heated passion. 

Hands clutched and belts clinked together and their legs stretched the length of the couch as they tumbled onto it. Beau grunted with the weight of the Canadian. His hands thirsted for purchase on the hair that had never been quite right, and in the back of his mind the American laughed at the idea that maybe tonight it would be perfect. 

Beau glanced at the television and grinned at the celebrating Blackhawks. 

“You wanna go to the parade?” Beau rubbed the back of James’s neck as he posed his question. The brunette lifted his head and gave Beau a slightly disappointed look.

“Dude,” he said, mocking the younger man, “Yeah, but when can we actually, you know...” He inclined his head to the bedroom and made a frustrated face. “I love ya, buddy, but it’s kinda pressing, you know?”

“No, I mean we can go ahead tonight. I’d like to. I was just...I thought it’d be nice to get a ticket or something and head over. It’d be fun.”

“Whatever you want, babe.” James nibbled on Beau’s ear and kissed his way down his stomach. Beau clenched up and pushed James away. 

“Stop! I’m ticklish.”

“You’re gonna wish you never said that.”

Beau’s eyes went wide and he broke into a grin. “Come on, ya goof.” Beau snatched up James’s hand and they bounded off toward the bedroom, sounds of cheering hockey players at their backs.


End file.
